


A Dry Spell

by Myin_Connelly1



Category: Supernatural
Genre: 18+, F/M, NSFW, PWP, Smut, touch starvation
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-04-07
Updated: 2020-04-07
Packaged: 2021-03-02 03:41:20
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 886
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23528572
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Myin_Connelly1/pseuds/Myin_Connelly1
Summary: Sam and Dean stumble upon a case, and need to help save someone who has never been exposed to the world.
Relationships: Dean Winchester / Reader, Dean Winchester/You
Kudos: 29





	A Dry Spell

“I’m gonna go look around, see if I can find anything to give us a hint on what the hell is so weird about this place.” Sam muttered to Dean.

“Sure, Fred.” Dean was zoned out, entranced by a life sized snow globe.

The brothers had picked this crappy hotel a week ago, completely on accident. But had discovered quickly that there was something really weird going on. They were having trouble figuring out what was weird though.

“Maybe we are going crazy.” Dean mumbled to the figurine inside the glass of the globe. 

For days now he had sat here staring at her. If he pressed the button for her song, she would seem to wake up and begin playing her sad melody. It reminded him of someone longing for something, love, freedom the likes. She always had a semi-neutral expression on her face, but her eyes expressed a sadness that Dean understood.

Dean jerked his head up. He was certain he had seen the girl shake her head at his statement. She was still again like she had always been. But he realized that he head was not hung sleeping. He sprung to his feet moving to her glass.

“Are you alive?!” Concern etched his tired face as he stood there wondering if he was actually going crazy as eternity stretched out before him.

You nodded your head slowly, getting down from your pedestal.

“Son of a bitch.” Dean breathed as you put your hand on the glass between you. You had been here longer than you could remember. Playing the same song anytime anyone touched the button. Never talking, never being touched by anyone. You didn’t even remember what it was like to be with another person.

Dean pressed his hand against his side of the glass where your hand was. Tears fell down your cheeks at the relief of sharing a connection with someone.

“Stand back.” Dean instructed quickly. He slammed his hand against the glass as hard as he could.

You fell to the ground covering your ears from the thundering reverberation throughout the globe.

“Sorry.” Dean muttered dumbly. “Don’t worry. We will get you out of here.”

Days passed as he explained to Sam what was going on, and the brothers poured over books and searched through the Internet with hopes of finding anything that would help get you out.

Dean had taken to sleeping on the floor against glass, where you pressed yourself as close to him as you could. 

“I found it.” Sam said stunned as he sat back in his chair.

“Well? Don’t leave us in suspense.” Dean’s sarcasm seeped into his every word.

“You have to do it.” Sam said talking to you through the glass. “You have to break yourself out.”

Terror crept into your body. What would happen if you broke through the glass? At least you were safe here.

“Don’t worry, we’re right here.” Dean said putting his hand to the glass one more time, before backing away from it and you.

You had to be strong. You had to break free. You put your hand on the glass, pulled it back, then hit it as hard as you could.

The glass of the globe shattered all around you before dissipating harmlessly. Energy seemed to buzz around you at your new found freedom, and you collapsed to the ground in shock.

You felt a static shock through your entire body as Dean’s strong arms encircled you just as you started to hit the ground. You panted, gasping for breath at his touch, an ache forming low in your belly. You wanted more of him to touch you.

“Dean,” You murmured.

“Sam find her some clothes!” Dean ordered, and the blushing younger brother darted from the room. It was then that Dean’s words sunk in and you realized that when the glass had gone, so had your clothes.

“Dean, touch me please,” You whined pathetically as your curled into his strong embrace. He was so warm, so firm, and so masculine. Every part of you felt like the opposite. Where he was masculine you were feminine, where he was warm, you were cold and longed to be touched. And where he was firm and hard, you were soft and yielding.

Dean’s hands wandered along your body, feeling you, lighting tiny fires wherever his fingers touched. And with each new place explored you sighed in content. Then his fingers found their way to your wet warmth.

“Please, touch me there,” You gasped at the gentle pressure of one of his fingers.

“Don’t worry, sweetheart, I’ve got you,” He hummed against your lips before kissing you and letting his finger slowly continue its welcomed intrusion.

Your skin was on fire as you Dean pressed his body against you. Your ears rang, and spots burst behind your eyes as you gasped in relief and pleasure. It was a feeling that you didn’t even know that you needed. But you knew at this point you would kill to continue feeling it.

Dean changed the angle of his wrist and you had to bite your lip to keep from screaming as you came on Dean’s fingers.

“Are you okay?” Dean asked.

“Yes.” You were breathless and your voice was rough from lack of use. “But what about the others?”


End file.
